SitRep

Posted on 08 Jul 2020 @ 2:10pm by Commander Marcus Wilcox

954 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Ab Intra
Location: Flight Deck
Timeline: MD 01 - 0930

Having finished the meeting with the Captain, Marcus made a quick pit stop in his quarters to update his uniform, feeling uncomfortable with incorrect rank pips. With that task completed he made his way down to the flight deck. His mind worked quickly, categorizing what needed to be discussed and what could be saved for later. He had a lot to catch up on. He thought about the previous CAG, and how Romanov had been running things.

He had to be honest, he was at a disadvantage. Still trying to figure out the entire current situation, and now meeting another officer to relieve them of their temporary post. He didn’t like it, but accepted the situation as mere fact. He didn’t know much of Romanov, having never interacted with any of the pilots from the Warriors. He stopped at the entrance to the flight deck, knowing he was there, and chided himself for momentarily stopping for no apparent reason.

A fighter tech happened to be walking past the door. Lorelei paused when she realized there was an officer standing there, and she realized she wasn't sure who he was. Which was weird. She thought she knew all the pilots, at least by face and name...but the commander's pips made him stand out. She came to attention and saluted. "Can I help you find something, sir?"

Squaring to the technician, he returned the salute smartly before relaxing his posture slightly. He had found in his years that a relaxed posture made junior officers feel more at ease. His eyes did a quick glance of the fellow crew member before replying. “Looking for Lieutenant Quinn Romanov, Squadron Leader ‘Warriors.’”

Lorelei's full lips twitched, resisting a smirk, and instead she nodded smartly. "Yes, Commander," she said. "Lieutenant Romanov is next to his plane. The Warrior valks are setup just down that line there." She pointed down a section of parked planes.

Marcus looked down the row of fighters and briefly around the hanger area. It didn’t look entirely the way he remembered it, though he wasn’t sure how much of his memory could have been compromised in the comatose state. He accepted the fact of possible memory fog, and made a mental note to start going through general deck schematic updates since the incident. Refocusing on the conversation, he faced the technician again.

“Thank you,” He replied, turning on his heel to walk the length of the row down towards the Warrior squadron. He looked over at the other row, instantly recognizing the Raven symbol on the hulls. His gait slowed as he saw his fighter. His fighter. He looked back, almost if he was checking it out and didn’t want the fighter to notice. It stayed in his peripheral vision for several strides before ultimately disappearing, his attention now focused on the man he was walking up to.

Quinn had just hopped off the ladder after climbing out of the cockpit and noticed someone walking toward him. The man's face was vaguely familiar, but these past weeks felt like they'd all been nothing but a blur. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure how much time had past... Definitely familiar, though. From...before. His dark eyes dropped to the commander's pips and he stood up a little straighter. "Commander," he greeted when it was clear this fella was coming for him.

Stopping about 2 meters away, Marcus’ stiffness relaxed, adopting a posture somewhere between at ease and attention. “ Lieutenant Quinn Romanov?” He asked, continuing when he got an affirmative gesture. “Commander Marcus Wilcox, Squad Leader ‘Warriors.’ I have been recently promoted to CAG.”

Marcus Wilcox. Right. He'd been injured. It all came back to Quinn and he nodded once. "Congratulations, Commander," he said, feeling surprise at the man being awake and already promoted but also relief. Quinn didn't want this job. "I'm glad to see you awake and recovered, sir. The air group needs all the all pilots it can get."

Nodding in understanding, he glanced around the bay again. “What is the current pilot situation?” He replied.

Quinn's expression was somber. "Out of a total original complement of forty-eight active pilots, we are down are thirty-nine. Out of seventy-two technicians and mechanics, were are down to sixty-eight. All of the fighter craft, however, are intact and repaired as needed. They are all spaceworthy."

Marcus nodded again. Not good numbers, but it could be worse. They could still field a robust force that can still cover itself. He was glad to hear that the planes were okay, but pilots were a lot harder to come by than planes. “Is a full sit-rep doable by 0800 tomorrow morning on current status of pilots, consumables, and current maintenance?”

"Yes, sir," Quinn replied easily. He'd been keeping his reports in a way to make it easy to do exactly this, just waiting for someone else to take this gig off his hands. Of course, the upright, straightforward, knowledgeable pilot standing there might not have looked like a man wanting the job off his hands, but it was hard to be, well, himself with "Commander, Air Group" hanging over his head. "I could have it ready by this evening, if you preferred."

“That would be preferable,” Marcus replied, with less of a thought pause than previous statements. “What time shall I expect you?”

Quinn considered this. It was still pretty early in the morning, but that'd give him plenty of time. "Just after alpha shift, sir?"

Marcus nodded. “I will see you in the pilot briefing room then.”

"I'll see you then, Commander," Quinn replied with a smart nod. "And congratulations on the promotion."

=/\= End Log =/\=

Commander Marcus Wilcox & Lieutenant Quinn Romanov (apb Bella)

 

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